Hogtied
by CupcakesGoRawr95
Summary: Righty-ho. This is a preview of sorts for my soon-to-come CSI:NY fic, It doesn't make much sense yet, but all in due time... YES. SO. Mature language, and violence but thats about it so far.
1. Prologue  Numb

**Right. So this isn't going to make too much sense, it's essentially just a taster of my CSI:NY fic, just to give you a feel of how attached Stella becomes to the case and how much it affects her. First chapter may or may not be up tomorrow. Al and Uriel will be introduced into the story later. Mature language. I know, I know, Swearing isn't pretty, but it conveys the right emotions in this scene, so bear with me please? Much love! Amyxx**

"NYPD! Open the door!" Stella shouted, her heart pounding. He could be gone already; they could be too late… Music. From inside the apartment. Oh god it wasn't, it couldn't be-

_"Tired of being what you want me to be. Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface-"_

Stella's stomach flipped. Numb. He wanted her to know he was there, that he knew what they wanted.

Flack turned to the door with a look of stone on his face and kicked the door down easily. Uriel hadn't barricaded the door. He wanted them to come in. He was crazy. She walked in cautiously, gun raised. The room was a mess; dirty clothes were strewn around the room, empty boxes of Chinese food and bags from Mexican restaurants… Stella felt her heart skip a beat when she kicked aside a brown paper bag from Jalapeño Hut, with Al's number scrawled across it in red marker, ending with a neat kiss. Flack nodded towards a door on the far side of the room, where the music seemed to be coming from.

"I said NYPD! We know you're in there Uriel, give it up!" Stella shouted again, her voice wavering and choked, but still as full of authority as ever. The door handle rattled for a moment, then stopped. The music quietened.

"That's not my name." a voice echoed from behind the door. It was low, vibrating and above all intimidating. It seemed to linger in Stella's mind, rebounding off of the sides of her brain. It was Uriel alright; she would never forget that voice. Something about it killed her inside, made her want to run home, curl up in her bed and just cry for hours. Something about it that made her question how much she could really help people, if she saved them; were they actually any better off? They would be haunted by this forever, seeing him on every street corner, in every car that passed them-

"No, stop it just stop it!" She mumbled clutching her head, trying to shake him out. He wanted her to think that, wanted her to just leave, run away, and forget about Al.

"Stella, is that you? Where are you? Oh god oh god oh god… Please Stell, Help me, it _was _him, you were right… I trusted him Stell, why did I trust him?" Al's voice cried from behind the door, her words running together into a flurry of almost incoherent syllables. Her sobs hurt her worse than hearing Uriel's voice. The door handle rattled again, but this time much weaker. Al's sobs rose in pitch and volume, shaking Stella to the bone. The next song started, What I've Done. He was playing Al's mix tape, the sick son of a bitch. Stella felt rage welling up inside her as she once again raised her gun, striding towards the door.

"Don't take another step closer! Or I swear I'll blow her fucking brains out!" Uriel cried, suddenly hysterical. He fired a single warning shot into the air, sending Al into fits of desperate sobs all over again. Flack inched slowly towards the door, stopping next to it. He put his hand on the door handle and nodded at Stella. Her heart jumped into her mouth as Flack held his breath and flung the door open. What Stella saw in that room would haunt her forever, embedded in her darkest nightmares, a constant reminder of how low one person can sink, to a point where they just aren't human anymore, where all compassion and caring is gone, replaced by a sadistic and sickening desire to inflict pain upon the most vulnerable people possible. In that moment, all reason and common sense surpassed Stella Bonasera. She was no longer tied down by protocol, by her job, by her duties. All she knew was that Uriel had to die, right there, right then. She fired a single shot as the tears cascaded from her eyes.


	2. Shock Shock

**Righty-ho! First chapter up, a day or two late. If, perchance, there are actually Mexican food place anywhere with the cheesy names I came up with, No copyright intended I suppose. If the writing seems scatty it may be because I spent the whole time I was writing it singing Eleanor Rigby and A Day In The Life badly. Ah, beautiful songs those, go and have a listen... ANYWAY. Mind wanderings aside, Reviews are more than welcome, one count of mature language at last check, and since I've been watching season one for the past month, I just made up a lab tech... She's a clutz. I feel we share that in common. I like her. I may bring her back in later... ALSO. EXTRA NOTE. I can't be bothered thinking: Hm, is this T? M? M+? for all of the chapters, so they'll al be M. Same with the whole Mac thing. He'll be more important later. Amyxx**

Shock Shock

Stella Bonasera cursed under her breath as she huddled under the eye-wateringly bight red awning of her favourite Mexican, Salsa City. The lights were all out and a piece of paper was taped to the door; _Closed today, sorry! _Written in scruffy longhand. She sighed and tugged her hood over her curly brown hair, scanning the high street. There was a Mexican on every street corner in this district, but most were over-priced or a health hazard. Her eyes fell on a small place across the street, Jalapeño Hut. Seemed alright, and people were bustling in and out. Good, it was open. She hurried across the road, heels splashing through puddles of tinted brown rain water.

"Hello and welcome to Jalapeño Hut. I'll be your waitress today, and my name's Alexandria. Are you ready to order, or shall I come back in a minute or two?" A young girl asked, startling Stella. She looked up to see a girl no more than nineteen stood next to the booth Stella had settled in, smiling at her. The girl was tall and slim, but not gangly. She had short hair barely passing her ears, dyed a mahogany red that contrasted with her deep blue eyes well. Her lips curved up into a genuine looking smile, but her eyes were haunted, tired, world-weary. She wore generic looking black trousers and a white short-sleeved blouse which much have been cold this time of year. A black apron hung around her waist and she clutched a pad of paper in one hand, pen in the other. A cheap name tag confirmed her name.

"The special please. And a glass of iced tea." Stella said, looking over at a large chalkboard on the wall. Anything looked good right about now. Her stomach rumbled in agreement.

"Alright, I'll have that over in just a sec." Alexandria smiled, flicking a long red fringe out of her face. Her eyes sparkled, glittering almost as much as the piercing above her lip. _A Monroe piercing _she reminded herself, she had learnt that from the Suicide Girls case last year. The girl turned and left, leaving Stella to her own thoughts. As if today hadn't been bad enough already, now Salsa City was closed. She had had to deal with a mass murder/suicide today, in a _school_ of all places. Some psycho had just walked in and opened fire. Fifteen injured, seven D.O.A's, including the shooter. She looked down at the table and saw her hands were shaking. She let out a forced laugh and held them still. This job could mess with your nerves sometimes.

"Here's your fajita and your iced tea, hope you enjoy your meal." The waitress smiled, returning to the table. She seemed to hesitate as Stella looked up.

"Are you alright?" Alexandria asked.

"I'm fine, just stressed." Stella replied, a false smile touching her lips.

"Aren't we all?" Alexandria laughed shakily, setting the food down on the table. Stella didn't notice the tears creep into Alexandria's eyes as she turned away, nor did she see the word _Jason_ inked on the Alexandria's wrist. She certainly didn't realise just how important to her life Alexandria and Jason were about to become.

The doorbell rang. Loudly. Impatiently. Mac Taylor stirred in his armchair, knocking an assortment of papers to the ground. Who could possibly be at his door at this time? A quick glance at the clock confirmed, it was an ungodly hour to be calling at someone's house. He half shuffled to the door, swinging it open with an unwelcoming "What?"

There was no one at the door. The street was empty. Not even the decaying autumn leaves were skittering about; it was as if time was standing still. Slowly, Mac reached for the gun on his belt. A feeling of reassurance swept over him when he found it. He stepped out into the street carefully, feeling the chilly, early winter air biting at his bare feet. He turned to look down the alley to his right, but something caught his eye. He turned to his door, and what he saw made his stomach drop. He tasted the coppery taste of fear flood his mouth. Pinned to his door was a piece of paper, blank aside from two words scrawled in block capitals. IT BEGINS. He shook his head in disbelief. _Shit_ he thought to himself _they know where I live now?_ He remembered Flack saying something the other day, something about never being safe when you're in a job like this. Too right. He fumbled for his cell, not taking his eyes off the note. He didn't look at his cell ass he shakily stabbed the keys, either. He looked down only to press the _call_ button.

"Stella? I need you to come down here and see this. I think we have another nut-job on our hands."

"They _what?_" Stella gasped, freezing in her tracks. In all her years here, she had never heard of something like this…

"We think the murderer was male… but yeah. He stripped her naked, bound her wrists and ankles like a-" Hawkes took a deep breath and massaged his temples "like a suckling pig then beat her to death. He also ripped open her jaw and stuck and apple in her mouth… we don't know if that was post-mortem or not yet." He let out a long sigh and shook his head, breathing a quiet profanity. They continued towards the morgue in silence, though they both knew they were thinking the same thing. Some people were just… _sick_. And probably beyond help, considering what the guy had done. Stella hadn't seen the pictures yet, and didn't plan to look any longer than her job required. According to the report Hawkes held; the girl, Chloe Denton, was nineteen and five foot one. Her body was found in central park by a jogger, just _there._ Right out in the open. A few feet away, a bag from a fast food restaurant had been found with all her clothes and ID in it. Stella let out a quiet sigh, but it sounded much more desperate and frightened than she had anticipated. She had been to Mac's place last night, after some psycho pinned a note to his front door. Everyone was much more sombre today, the air felt heavy with depression. Pushing open the double doors to the morgue, she greeted Syd with a false smile and stopped on the opposite side of the examining table to him, looking down at the body of a young girl.

"You're here about the Denton case, right?" He asked cocking one eyebrow.

"How'd you guess?" Hawkes replied, a small smile cracking across his mask of sullen worry.

"Well, this is quite a case. There was evidence of sexual activity within the last twenty four hours, plus various bruises and defensive wounds that would suggest rape… and then this…" He said, turning the girls head to the left. There was a huge red mark on the side of her head, raw flesh. Flecks of dirt, fibres, what looked like splinters still stuck in it.

"This didn't kill her. It did, however, knock her unconscious; presumably while the attacker was moving her from the primary crime scene to central park. She was still alive at this point. She must have come to while she was in the park, as I found grass and dirt underneath the vic's nails. She was beaten to death, eventually died of internal bleeding when a broken rib punctured her lung. The, ah, _extending_ of the jaw occurred after death, as there was little bleeding where the mouth ripped and no bite marks in the apple itself."

Stella nodded, impressed. "Defensive wounds?" she inquired.

"Oh, of course." Syd said, lifting the vic's limp hand. "Defensive wounds here, here and here. Also, these rope burns and cuts around them? Show she was tied up before death; she was trying to pull them off."

Stella nodded again, crossing her arms. "I'll take those over to tox for you Syd" she said, indicating to the plastic bags containing the rope, materials from under Chloe's nails and hair, etc. Syd nodded gratefully, talking pathology terms with Hawkes. She grabbed the bag and strode out of the morgue, turning down a corridor and into the elevator. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples, feeling a migraine creeping up on her. Sometimes, she forgot why she took this job. She saw death and pain too much, it was making her paranoid. But she helped people, right? That was all she wanted to do. As long as she was doing right by society in a place where so many did wrong, she was happy. The elevator jerked to a halt as the doors slid open. She swept a curl from her face and stepped into the corridor in front of her, the fluorescent lights doing little to help her migraine.

"Sara? You in there?" Stella called, rapping her knuckles on the door of the toxins lab. Sara Jennaworth, a young blonde lab tech appeared from under her desk, rubbing her head carefully. She nodded Stella permission to enter, picking up papers from her desk and trying to organise them a little better.

"Syd gave me these to bring up, for the Denton case. You got much on it yet?" Stella asked, placing the plastic bags on Sara's desk.

"Not much, still analysing. All I've got is over there." Sara replied, tentively poking an already forming bruise on her head, wincing as she did so. Stella nodded, striding over to the table Sara had indicated. Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened and she felt the gears of her brain jump into action.

"No…."

On the table, inside a clear plastic bag, was a brown paper bag, with the Jalapeño Hut logo emblazoned across the side. Stella picked up the evidence bag and turned it around, shaking her head in disbelief. Scrawled on the other side, smudged and slightly faded were the words:

_I love you baby! Have a great day. Alexandria x_

"We have our first suspect." Stella told Sara, reaching for her cell to call Mac.


	3. Under Pressure

**Why hello there. How nice of you to drop in, here, have a spot of tea. If I'd known you were coming… LIES. I wouldn't make you cake, I can't cook. The majority of this chapter was written at ten o'clock at night, with just coffee and Frosties to keep me going. Anywho, Alexandria is brought in for questioning. Mac doubts Stella, Stella doubts Alexandria, Alexandria doubts Jason, Oh! The Drama! Let's watch shall we? Amyxx**

Mac was striding through the entrance within an hour of the call Stella made. His face was stormy, troubled, and purple bags sat beneath his tired eyes.

"You're sure you got this right Stella?" He asked her as she jogged over to him, files clutched to her chest.

"Positive. I was there last night, around eight, and she was working. The place closed at ten according to the manager. Estimated time of death was two in the morning. That gives her at least, what, a four hour window to kidnap Chloe, knock her unconscious, take her to Central Park, tie her up and kill her." Stella pressed. Mac was unconvinced. From what Stella described on the phone, this Alexandria didn't seem strong enough to knock Denton unconscious in the first place; never mind beat the girl to death.

"I thought the killer was male?" he inquired, cocking one eyebrow.

"Supposedly, though we were just going off the bruises Sid found on the vic's body. She might have had an accomplice, or just big hands."

"And the evidence of rape?"

"No proof that it was the same person who attacked her, we've had cases like this before where it was just rough sex, totally unrelated to the case. Could have been any time yesterday, even the day before." Stella argued. Mac sighed, still unsure.

"Well, it's worth a shot." He agreed, carefully optimistic.

"Hello, I'm Officer Taylor, NYPD. This is Officer Bonasera. Can we have a word with your manager and anyone who was working last night?" Mac asked the waiter, pulling him aside as he dodged tables with a glass in one hand and a place balanced on the other.

"Yeah, I'll go get Mr. Stephens in just a sec." The boy smiled, placing the glass and plate on the table next to them, purring a well practiced _Enjoy your meal Ma'am _to the woman sat there. Stella's eyes scanned the restaurant and Mac felt overwhelmingly grateful to be working with her today. After what had happened last night, he just wanted to close this case as soon as possible, and Stella already had a suspect. She was just so quick to string things together, piece together the story. He just hoped she was right.

"Hello Officers. How may I help you?" A large, middle-aged man asked as he approached them, a fearful look in his eyes. Before Mac could answer, the man butted in:

"Perhaps we should discuss this in my office?"

"Of course." Stella agreed, indicating that the man should lead them there. He led them through a 'Staff Entry Only' door and down a corridor to his small, cramped office. They both took a seat as the man rushed into a story, wringing his hands and sweating like a pig.

"If this is about the illegal substances found in Stephen Edwardson's employee locker, I can assure you, he has since been made redundant. We had no idea Eddy even took those pills, let alone that he was storing them here…" he began, clearly uncomfortable. Stella shook her head and held up one hand to silence him.

"We're not here about that Mr…?"

"Stephens. Please, call me Clive." He said, breathing a sigh of relief. He looked better with a smile.

"I'm afraid we're here on more serious business. A young woman was found murdered in central park this morning-"

"Oh my, really?"

"Yes, but her clothes and ID were found in a fast food restaurant bag, one with _your_ restaurants logo printed on it. Do you have any idea how this could have come about?" Stella pressed. Clive thought for a moment. He fished a tin out of his suit pocket, opening it to reveal a bounty of expensive looking cigars. He put one between his pursed lips and lit it before continuing.

"Well, we do offer doggy bags for costumers who cannot finish their meal, and we have an express menu." He said thoughtfully, taking long drags on his cigar and blowing the smoke out of his mouth in great stinking clouds.

"Express menu?" Mac asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Yes, for those costumers who cannot afford to wait and eat in."

"So… a to go menu?"

"Well, I suppose you could call it that." He said, though the disgust on his face was clear. He obviously didn't like to think of his restaurants produce as the greasy fast food they all knew it was.

"Alright, could you give us the names and contact details of anyone you had working yesterday?" Stella asked, pulling out a notepad to jot everything down.

"What… You don't think one of my employees did this do you?" Clive asked, shocked. If he wasn't offended by the 'to go menu' remark, he was offended now.

"We're paid to be suspicious Sir." Mac said tactfully. Clive nodded and turned his attention to the outdated computer on his desk, typing something in quickly.

"We had Marie Evans, Mark Plesko and Alexandria Burns working yesterday." Clive said, writing down their contact details on a used envelope. Mac saw Stella's eyes lit up at the mention of Alexandria's name.

"But I assure you officers, none of my employees would divulge in such horrendous behaviour." Clive said defiantly, shaking his head at the mere thought of it. Stella nodded, clearly unconvinced, and took the envelope.

"Well, we'll be in touch Mr. Stephens." She promised, standing up and plastering on a false smile. Mac did the same, pulling a business card out of his pocket.

"Call us if you have any questions." He instructed Clive, handing him the card briskly. Clive nodded, looking dazed.

And with that, Mac and Stella left.

"This is just stupid. You think _I_ killed a girl? You honestly think that I could kill someone?" Alexandria Burns laughed, shaking her head. She looked different to when Stella saw her the night before. She looked ill, her eyes appeared more sunken and her skin was paler. Every breath she took looked painful, her tiny frame rattled with every sigh.

"Nah. We were just bored, thought we'd drag some poor soul off the streets and mess with them for an hour or two." Danny said sarcastically. Alexandria's eyes snapped towards him and held his glare.

"Very funny." She sneered. Stella looked down at Alexandria's hands. There was no way she had made those bruises… She was beginning to have her doubts. What if they had got it wrong? What if they were just putting strain on a girl who already seemed to have enough stress in her life as it was?

"What evidence do you have that points to me then? Unless you are as incompetent as you seem and you really are just pulling people in off the streets." Alexandria said defensively, leaning back on her chair. Danny grabbed the back of it and slammed it down onto four legs again.

"Didn't your mom ever tell you? If you fall, you'll crack your head open." He lectured.

"My mom tried to smother me when I was a baby, prick."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Stella saw Danny soften slightly, but he didn't let on.

"Your old man never tell you then?"

"He fucked off the moment my mom told him she was knocked up. Not before he tried to punch me out of her, that is." She said. She kept her icy exterior, but Stella saw tears in Alexandria's eyes. She leaned back on her chair again. Danny did nothing.

"Miss Burns, we found the victims clothes in a doggy bag from the restaurant where you work, covered in your fingerprints, with your name written on it. Do you think we're not going to notice that?" Danny pointed out.

"Where did you get my prints?" She said, suddenly panicking.

"Miss Alexandria Burns and Mr Stephen Edwardson, arrested on January Nineteenth, two thousand and eight. Arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct." Stella read from the print off of Alexandria's criminal record. A small smile cracked across Alexandria's face.

"Christ, yeah. That was a fun night." She laughed shakily.

"Look, do you remember writing this on any bags yesterday?" Stella pressed. "We don't have time to take a trip down memory lane." Stella slid a photograph of the food bag and its writing across the table. She saw recognition in Alexandria's eyes.

"Yeah… Yeah I remember writing that. I remember what was in it too. Spicy Nachos. Yesterdays take out special. You'd be surprised how many people go for the special." She said, looking up at Stella. She held her gaze and saw a steely edge in Alexandria's eyes. One she had never seen before.

"Did you know the costumer?"

Alexandria opened her mouth to answer, but shook her head and closed it again. A tear ran down her cheek as she leaned forward and hiding her face behind her fringe.

"No Ma'am, I didn't." She said finally, looking up. There was a distant look in her eyes. Stella nodded.

"Alright. We'll be in contact." Stella said coolly, opening the door for her. Alexandria nodded, walking out without a word.

"What do you think?" She asked Danny once Alexandria was out of earshot.

"I think she has an attitude. And a gutter mouth. But I don't think she did it. I think she needs help if I'm honest." Danny said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do _you_ think?"

"I think we need to find out who bought those spicy nachos." Stella said coldly.


End file.
